Frowsty, my six year-old's fluffy, semi-psychotic black cat, has been deemed to be a god. Our home is now the center of a neo-Egyptian cat cult focused around a particular fluffy cat from the pound.
First Iris called Frowsty a king (other cats were dubbed the president and the mayor). But soon she decided that royalty wasn't grand enough for this particular cat. Soon he was called "Frowstomatic the Immortal God." Subsequently she asked my opinion as to what he was the god of, and I said, "Destruction. Wait, no. Fluffiness. Okay. Fluffy Destruction." So now he is known as "Frowstomatic the Immortal God, Fluffy Destruction." I hope his title doesn't get much longer.
Much later she decided our deceased cat, Butterball, is also an immortal god, but so far, the other cats, Al, Rachel, and Bob Marley, remain depressingly mortal. (They can take refuge in their lofty positions as mayor, governor, and president, respectively).
My child has been an atheist from age 3. (Sidenote: I do believe in God, but my husband does not). She caused a crisis of the faith in a Catholic child at her pre-k program; the other girl's mother told me her child's mind was completely staggered by the idea that another child could not believe in God. Once she stood on our front porch and screamed, "I HATE GOD! GOD IS STUPID!" Perhaps I should have handled it differently, but I said to her, "Honey, it's always a joy to hear you rant, but people will get very upset if they hear a little girl talk like that."
And now we have progressed to neo Egyptian cat worship, which I aid and abet by following her requests to refer to the animal as "the Immortal God" and "Fluffy Destruction."
My questions: Is she going to hell? With me? Or just me? And what about Fluffy Destruction?
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